And Are We There Yet?
by andstilltheyechome
Summary: Alexis Sommerville's life is boring, until she meets renegade Jumper Griffin. When being followed, she grabs onto Griffin just as he jumps, only he doesn't end up jumping where he meant to. Did Alexis change that? If she's not a Jumper then what is she?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It's an alright day today, I guess. It might be better if the sun could pierce the cloud cover. Just a sliver of light, that's all I'm asking for. One ray to bathe me in warmth. But the clouds don't move, they just hang there limp and grey like dirty dishcloths, and the sun never appears.

Mia told me to meet her at the Martyr's Memorial, probably one of the busiest places in Oxford when the tourists are out and about. And just as I get here, bang on time, a whole coach load turns up, taking one thousand pictures a minute. The group of teenagers sat at the base of the steps throw the tourists dirty looks; it had been quiet till they turned up.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I take it out. It's a text from Mia, saying she's going to be five minutes late. I groan and cross my arms over my chest. From my vantage point at the top of steps I'll be able to see her coming at least. That's if I don't get pushed down the steps first. The tourists are scrabbling their way up in a huddle, all trying to peer at the writing on the memorial. I could read it to them if they wanted, it would save them the need to push and shove to get up the steps.

One of the tourists steps up right beside, forcing their way into my personal space. I have to quickly move down a step to avoid being nose to nose with them, but in my haste I back into someone. I stumble and the stranger catches me.

"Whoa, hey, watch it!" he shouts out, grabbing me by the upper arms as I steady myself. His tone is irritable and I immediately feel my cheeks burn with angry embarrassment.

"Sorry," I grumble, not really meaning it. I shrug my arms out of his tight grip. "Next time I'll just proceed to fall down the steps and crack my head open."

"It would have saved me the trouble of catching you."

I turn around, ready to glare at my unwilling saviour, only to find that he's beat me to it. A sharp, icy stare, droopy eyes, a sculpted nose and soft lips, all framed by a halo of unruly brown hair. He's short, for a guy at least, but still taller than me. Tall enough to look down at me with that stare.

Feeling my cheeks flame again, I throw him a weak version of my initial glare and pointedly look away from him. I scan the streets that feather out from the junction, waiting – praying – for a glimpse of sleek black hair, any sign of Mia arriving. I tap my foot impatiently and beside me I hear the guy chuckle. I have to restrain myself from saying anything, biting my tongue so hard I risk drawing blood. Out of the corner of my eye I can see him grinning with amusement as he glances at me.

"What?" I snap, less of a question more of a demand.

He chuckles again. "That guy, over there, you see him?" He points across the junction to a man just stood at the crossroads, staring straight ahead. "He's been staring at you for the past five minutes," he continues, laughing again. "That's quite a stalker you've got there."

I peer at the man at the crossroads. He's just standing there. What's he doing, staring at me like that? I can feel his eyes on me, digging into my flesh. A shiver rockets down my spine. "I think I know him..." I mumble.

Another shock of laughter. "Really?"

I frown, trying to put a face to a name. There's something about him that looks familiar. Short blonde hair, strong jaw. I shake my head, trying to clear the mist from my mind, but I just can't think properly.

"Well it doesn't matter now, he's walked off."

I look back and, sure enough, the blonde-haired guy is walking away, heading right. He merges with the crowd and I lose sight of him entirely.

"Did you see where he went?" I ask, looking this way and that, my eyes getting lost in between the cars and throngs of people.

"Nope, he must have found better people to stalk," Mr. Annoying replies, still sniggering.

"Oh," I say, a sickly feeling creeping into my gut. Biting my lip, I check my phone again. No messages. Please Mia, just hurry up so I can get out of here.

"Well, I'd better be off," Mr. Annoying says, still smiling to himself. "Have fun with your stalker. Oh, here he comes now!"

My head whips to my right, following his gaze, and my heart leaps into my throat, panic shooting through my limbs. The blonde-haired guy is tearing his way through the crowd of tourists, parting them like the Red Sea. His jaw is set, a vein throbs in his neck and there's a look of determination in his eyes.

"No wait," I choke out to my earlier saviour, hoping he can save me all over again. I stagger towards him, hands latching onto his black leather jacket before he can realise.

And then we're gone.

There's a whoosh of air, colliding with us like we've just run into a wall, but somehow we manage to push through.

Only to appear in my room.

I hit my bed so hard that I bounce on the mattress. The entire room shudders, books drop from the shelves, the light swings violently. The guy stumbles, momentarily losing his footing. Then he snaps his eyes onto me, glaring at me so hard that I recoil. There are a thousand questions swimming in the intense blue of his irises, questions I don't think I could ever answer.

"Where the fuck are we?" he shouts, so much venom in his voice that I just stare back at him, unable to answer.

"Alexis? Love, is that you?" Mum, calling from downstairs.

The guy's face morphs from angry confusion to panic, and then he disappears. I gasp and kick backwards, scrambling up my bed till I'm huddled at the top. There's a funny haze in the centre of my room, like a mirage, and I can't take my eyes off of it. What the hell just happened? How did we suddenly get from the Martyr's Memorial to my room? How did he just vanish?

"Alexis! Are you up there?" Mum calls again, the sound of her feet tramping up the stairs.

I swallow the lump in my throat and open my mouth, but it just works like a fish; I can't form any words. Mum continues up the stairs and knocks on my door before entering.

"Ah, I thought you'd come back," she says, smiling at me as if everything is fine.

I force a smile, a weak copy of a real one, and nod.

A frown line crosses Mum's forehead. "When did you come back? I didn't hear you come through the front door."

My eyes fly wide open with panic, but I push a lie out. "Urm, really? I came in a couple of minutes ago."

Mum frowns harder. "Oh, okay, I guess I just wasn't listening." She goes to leave and I release the tension from my shoulders, but she quickly pops her head back into the room. "I thought you were meeting Mia."

"She phoned, said she was sick," I splutter the first thing that comes to mind.

"Okay, well tell her I hope she feels better before you two go back to university."

"I will."

Mum finally leaves and I feel myself inwardly collapse, my muscles shaking with relief. This day just went from alright to downright traumatising.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"You... teleported?" Mia's voice is full of scepticism.

"Not me, the guy."

"The blonde one?"

"No, he was still forcing his way through the crowd. It was the brown haired one who teleported, the one in the leather jacket," I clarify, feeling my stomach coil with impatience. I must sound crazy. Any minute now Mia will be dragging me off to the loony bin.

"Right," she says, drawing out the word.

I throw my arms up in exasperation, almost spilling coffee from my half empty to-go cup. We're walking back to my house after making a trip to Costa Coffee. It almost felt odd returning to normality like that. And now, heading home, I expect either of those two mysterious men to just leap out in front of me. I can feel my gut twisting at the thought of it, roiling with anxiety.

"I'm being serious, Mia," I say, glaring at her. The breeze toys with a strand of her long black hair, pulling it this way and that before dropping it again. "Something really fucking weird happened yesterday and right now I could use your support."

Mia sighs. "Okay, okay, I believe you. I still think you're crazy, but I believe you."

Although Mia just completely contradicted herself, it's a start. I need someone on my side. I know I didn't dream what happened. I've tried to convince myself of that already, but that plan went down the toilet after a bruise on my leg began to materialise, a product of cracking my knee on the bed frame when I landed. It all happened so fast that everything just blurs into one, like the memories are stuck together with chewing gum, and no matter how hard I pull on them they still remain attached to one another.

We reach my house and I push open the creaky gate. When Mia steps through and lets it go, it slams back into place, the crack of wood against brick echoing down the street, making me realise just how quiet it is. There's the rumble of distant car engines and a few chirping birds, but other than that our street is silent.

I twist my key in the lock and the door jams again. I roll my eyes and look at Mia expectantly. She gives me an answering eye role and steps onto the porch. Leaning our shoulders against the front door, I count to three and on three we slam against the door. It gives almost instantly and we tumble inside, tripping over each other's feet but managing to stay up right. Still hanging onto the key for dear life, I yank it out and smooth my hair down.

"I hate your front door," Mia says, slightly out of breath and rubbing her shoulder.

I'm just about to agree when my older brother's voice booms throughout the house. "Mum!" he yells from upstairs. "Are the chips cooked yet?"

"Come check for yourself!" Mum replies from the living room. "I'm not your slave, Nathan!"

An audible annoyed sigh from upstairs, murmuring voices then the sound of my brother's bedroom door opening. I tug my shoes off my feet and absently throw them at the bottom of the stairs just as Nathan is stomping down them.

"Move your bloody shoes, Alexis," he snaps at me, kicking my shoes out of the way so that they fly and hit the wall.

"I left them there to trip you up," I retort. Nathan sticks out his arm and wraps it around my neck, laughing playfully. I protest and he lets me go, and just as I duck out from under his arm I see him.

The blonde-haired guy. Stood on the stairs behind my brother. As casually as if he were a relative. I recoil backwards, bumping into Mia, who almost topples over. Behind my back, I grip her wrist, letting her know that something is wrong. Someone is wrong. What is he doing here?

Nathan notices me looking at the blonde-haired guy but doesn't seem to register the panic that must be written all over my face. "Oh, yeah, this is Max, from work," he says nonchalantly, gesturing at his friend.

Max stares at me, the smallest of smirks on his face, so small that no one else would notice it. But it's exactly what I'm looking for – that sign that he recognises me. He's taller than I remember, paler too, and there's a slight gauntness to his cheeks that gives him an unnerving look. His hair is short and tufty, his jaw strong, and his eyes a light shade of green.

"Hi," I say, monotone and sharp. I quickly turn my eyes away from him and back to Nathan, who's already heading for the kitchen, distracted by his beloved chips.

"Hi," Max replies knowingly.

He follows Nathan and I drag Mia past him, pulling her up the stairs so fast that she almost falls over the steps. "What's going on?" she hisses at me.

"That's the guy!" I hiss back, slamming my bedroom door behind us. I can hear them pattering around in the kitchen below. He's in my house. How is he in my house? How has he wormed his way in like this?

For a second there's silence as Mia's jaw drops. "What, that guy? That Max is the blonde-haired guy from yesterday?"

"Yes, and he's in my house!" I say, remembering to lower my voice just in time. My heart is hammering overtime, thumping against my rib cage like a pneumatic drill.

Mia opens her mouth but no sound comes out. She just stares at me, dumbfounded. "But... but it can't be! Surely it can't be the same guy, maybe you're just imagining it is. I mean, you're shaken up after yesterday..." Her voice trails away.

I press my hands to my cheeks and feel how warm they've got with stress. This isn't happening.

"What are you going to do?" Mia asks, her voice high and breathy. She drops onto my bed and, as she does so, there's a crackling noise, like crumpled paper.

"Wait, stand up," I tell her.

"What, why?"

"Just stand up."

Looking bewildered, Mia does as I ask. She glances behind her and says, "There's a note." She picks it up off the bed and passes it to me. It's handwritten, scrawled and slightly messy, but it's readable.

"Read it out loud," Mia says, so I do.

"'_We need to talk about what happened yesterday at the Martyr's Memorial. __**We need to talk about how you changed my jump like that**__. Martyr's Memorial, 7 o'clock tonight'. _It's signed Griffin."

"What? None of that makes any sense," Mia says.

On the surface I'm thinking that too, but beneath it all there's something niggling there, like a thought I've suddenly forgotten and am trying to remember.

"Who's Griffin?" Mia continues. "I'm guessing that other guy from the memorial?"

"Yeah."

"But... how did he get into your room?"

I think I know exactly how – he teleported.

What I also know is this – I'm going to have to meet him tonight. There's no getting around it. I need answers as much as he does.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

It's cold outside, unbelievably cold. It's that burning cold, like when you're in the bath and you put a foot against the cold tap and it seems to burn like fire. My nose must look like Rudolph's.

I'm walking to the Martyr's Memorial. I didn't want to ask my Mum for a lift because I knew I'd get Twenty Questions. Where are you going? What are you doing out when it's dark? It's late, Alexis, who are you meeting? I'm not going to be putting up 'missing' posters, am I?

Yes, Mum, that might actually be the case.

I'm standing at the crossroads by the memorial, hands stuffed in the pockets of my parka, shoulders hunched. The little red man won't turn green and I find my eyes shifting to the memorial, a few cars cutting across my vision, but I still can't see anyone waiting there. I'm worried, there's no skirting around it. Stupidly enough my Mum's words are ringing in the back of my mind. I don't know this guy – Griffin. What kind of a name is 'Griffin' anyway? He's probably a psychopath. I'm going to reach the memorial and he'll just leap out of the shadows and drag me away somewhere.

I shudder and brush the thoughts aside. Now is not the time to let my imagination run away with me. I mean, teleporting? What was I thinking? There's no way he could have teleported. There has to be some reasonable explanation. Maybe 'jump' is some kind of slang.

I have a funny feeling I'm just making excuses.

The little red man turns green and I cross the road, feeling my heart begin to hammer in my chest, colliding with my rib cage. I slowly climb the steps up the memorial, my eyes darting left and right, searching for any sign of movement. But the only movement is from the few cars that drone lazily by. There's no one around.

"You're late."

I leap a mile, like a cat who's tail has been stood on, and whirl around to see him standing not but a few feet behind me. Griffin, his brown hair sticking out in all directions like the downy coat of a puppy. He's still wearing the same clothes as before.

I glance at my watch, trying to still my shaking hands as I do so. "No I'm not."

"I make it 7:03. You're late."

I glare at him stubbornly. He glares back, and I think I see a hint of amusement in his eyes. Then I realise something – this isn't a petty argument with my brother. What am I even doing?

"What do you want anyway?" I ask a little huffily, crossing my arms.

"I think my note made it pretty clear," he snaps back, the venomous tone still dripping from his words. He takes a step closer, glancing around even though there's no one there, and hisses, "I want to know how you changed my jump."

"You're not making any sense!" I splutter.

"Don't give me that bullshit!" I clamp my mouth shut, stunned into silence. What is his problem? Surely it's me who should be asking the questions? "I'll ask you again," he continues, "how did you change my jump?"

"I don't even know what a 'jump' is," I protest. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

A smile flickers onto his face but it's not friendly, and before I have a chance to really think about it there's a sudden whoosh of air again and he's gone. I skitter backwards, almost losing my footing. How did he do that?

A sharp, shrill whistle catches my attention and I turn towards the sound. And there he is, stood across the street beneath the soft glow of a street lamp, waving smugly at me. I open my mouth, preparing to shout something at him, anything, when suddenly he's gone again. I barely have time to blink when he reappears right before my eyes, as though he had never moved from that spot and I was just imagining the whole thing.

"Get what a 'jump' is now?" he says, still smiling that smug smile.

I stare at him, my mouth working like a fish, no words coming out. I point over to where he was stood by the lamppost and manage to squeak out, "You teleported."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"A 'jump' is a teleport?"

He sighs irritably and says, "Yes, I can teleport? Get it, got it, good. Now can we cut to the chase?"

But my mind can't keep up with everything and I'm still rabbiting on, trying to fit the pieces together. "So when we were at the Martyr's Memorial and I grabbed onto you, you teleported? You teleported us _both?_"

He glares at me, seemingly impatient. "It's not the 'both' bit that I'm concerned about here, it's the part where you _changed_ where we jumped to. I was never meant to jump you anywhere. You just grabbed onto me, like some freak who'd escaped from the psychiatric ward, when I jumped. That's why you came with me. But it doesn't explain how we ended up... wherever we ended up."

"My room," I answer dumbly.

"Yeah, your room, whatever, I don't care about the stupid details. Just tell me how you changed the destination of the jump."

I can feel his eyes on me, boring into me as though he hopes to drill a hole through my head with his stare. Fat lot of good that will do; hole or no hole, I'm still no closer to the answer than him. "I didn't do anything," I reply, not knowing what else to say.

Exasperated, he groans and throws his arms in the air. Then he jerks back towards me, all the muscles suddenly tensed and says, "Come on! I know you did something, just bloody tell me! What did you do?"

"I don't know!" I shout at him, exasperated too, exasperated with all these questions. "As far as I know I didn't do _anything_! You're the one who teleported-"

"Jumped!"

"-Whatever! Just leave me alone, okay?" I turn to leave, hoping to push this mess from my mind, when suddenly Griffin races forwards and wraps his arms around my middle. I manage to choke out a shout of protest when suddenly the crossroads and the memorial disappears, replaced by the street I live on. We land on our feet, but the landing is shaky and the road almost seems to rock beneath my feet. Then I realise it's just a trick of the mind, and Griffin hastily releases me from his grip. I whirl around to face him and practically scream at him, "What did you do?"

But he ignores me and says, "See? You changed my jump, again! How are you doing that? It doesn't make any fucking sense!"

"Shut up!" I hiss at him, now acutely aware that the neighbours will be able to hear this, including my family. I glance at my house but the curtains don't stir, the light undisturbed behind them. "Just leave me alone; I don't know any more than you do."

Griffin goes to answer when suddenly we're bathed in light. Before I can act, Griffin jumps away, disappearing like he was never there. Light is spilling from the now open front door of my house, illuminating a shadowy figure standing there like they're on guard duty. The person steps from the porch and my eyes go wide. It's Max, and he's staring right at me.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N – Sorry for the wait, but I've been busy with coursework. Just wanted to say thanks for all the reviews so far, I'm glad you all like it so much. I hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

Chapter Four

It seems as though an entire day passes before either of us speaks. He stares at me, I stare at him. My heart is hammering like a pneumatic drill when he finally says, "Who were you talking to?"

I expected his facial expression to be one of confusion. Instead, it's hostile, determined, and this unnerves me even more. There's something really not right about Max. "No one," I dismiss, trying to act like it was nothing, like he just saw me talking to a friend, nothing more.

I start to walk through the front gate, going at a normal pace up the path, fixing Max with my best look of disdain. I try to brush past him but he moves to stand in my way. I glare up at him, yet I can feel my hands shaking at my sides, feel the sweat pricking my palms.

"Who was that?" he asks more forcefully, annunciating each word like he's reciting the lines of a play. There is a hard anger roiling in the deep of his serpent green eyes.

"What's it to you?" I attempt to step past him but he blocks my way again.

Max opens his mouth to answer, a sharp breeze twining through his blonde hair, when a voice speaks up from behind him, "See ya mate- oh, hey Lex." It's my brother, beer in hand, just beginning to round the corner of the stairs. He looks at the two of us as though he doesn't register the panic on my face and the determination on Max's, even going as far as using the pet name he has for me. This is the one time I want Nathan to notice me, to understand that something is up, to actually interfere with my life. But no, there's no response.

Max, caught between questioning me and looking normal, half turns towards Nathan. He erases that fierce expression but his jaw is still set hard, the muscles twitching there. However, he gives up questioning me, and I don't know whether I'm relieved or not. If he had kept it up it would have alerted to Nathan that something was wrong, but by dropping it Nathan now has nothing to suspect and I'll only have to face Max again.

"Bye, man," Max says, the words a little forced, and he strides past me, making sure to catch my eye as he does so.

I try and relax as I step into the house, but I can still feel Max's presence, growing smaller as he walks down the road. As I shut the door behind me, locking Max away, Nathan says, "Where have you been?"

"Out," I reply, practically snap, as I hurry upstairs.

"Alright grumpy," Nathan retorts, wandering down the hall.

I storm into my room, slamming the door behind me. And I realise that a part of me was hoping to walk in and see Griffin waiting for me, or at least a note left on my bed. Yet there's no sign of him, and my heart sinks a little. This whole thing is down to him, not me. This shouldn't be happening. I should be hanging out with old friends, laughing and joking, spending this little time I have away from university to relax. Instead I've somehow made myself acquainted with a teleporter who has social issues. Oh, sorry, I meant _jumper_, I do apologise. Not to mention the fact that my brother's new best friend has taken an instant dislike to me, and seems to know more about what's going on than I do.

I collapse onto my bed, hoping that when I shut my eyes and open them in the morning everything will be back to normal.

The next day I'm in Costa, waiting to meet Mia. She rang me this morning, wanting to know anything and everything. I made a joke about referring her to Max, but it only made a hollow feeling grow in my gut. Something tells me I shouldn't be joking about any of this. But how am I meant to survive if I don't make light of the mess I've got myself into?

I'm stood in the queue, a text from Mia open on my phone where she's already demanded a vanilla latte. I'm still deliberating on what to get when I find myself at the front of the queue, the man behind the till asking me what I want. I gape at him for a second, then hurriedly turn my attention to the menu board, my mind whirring as it tries to decide. I don't know why I make choosing a drink so hard.

"Um... a medium mocha and a medium vanilla latte please," I say, finally deciding for myself.

The man punches my order into the screen and asks, "Anything else?"

I'm about to say 'no' when a voice pipes up from behind me, "A ham and cheese toastie." An arm reaches past me and hands the toastie to the man.

I know that voice.

I turn and see Griffin looking at me as though he hasn't done anything wrong. "What?" he asks innocently.

"What are you doing?" I hiss at him.

"Well, I can tell you what you're doing: you're buying me lunch."

I glance at the cashier who's waiting patiently for me to pay him, the little green numbers of the total glaring at me. I sigh irritably, not in the mood to kick up a fuss in the middle of Costa, and insert my card into the credit card processor and pay.

As I wait for my order, silently praying that Mia will turn up soon and shoo Griffin away, I turn to him and fix him with my best 'I'm not impressed' look.

"Thanks for jumping away like that last night," I say, and even I can hear the venom in my voice.

"You're still living, aren't you?" Griffin replies. His hair is still sticking up like he's just got out of bed. I don't know how he can sleep at night.

I roll my eyes at him. "How did you even know I was here anyway?"

"I jumped to your house and followed you here," he answers matter-of-factly, like he thinks stalking is completely normal.

I take the tray with the drinks on it, carrying it over to a table by the window, Griffin keeping in step. I take my seat at the table, trying to act like he's not there, but he sits at the seat opposite and reaches out a hand towards the vanilla latte. I slap his hand away and he scowls at me.

"Are we expecting company or something?" he asks.

"My friend Mia," I reply, continuing to avoid his eyes as I unload the tray and place it on the floor.

One of the employees brings Griffin's toastie over and he immediately digs in. "Well, I don't see your friend anywhere so I guess we have time to talk."

"No, I don't know how I change your 'jump' or whatever, so stop asking me," I interrupt huffily.

Griffin swallows the food in his mouth and says, "Okay, I get that now, keep your hair on. I've been thinking about it anyway. And, well, I know you're not a jumper because if you were somehow jumping me somewhere you'd leave a jump scar, which you don't."

"Is that supposed to make sense?"

"And I also know," he continues, ignoring me, "that Paladins are following you."

"Right... wait, what? Paladins?"

"Paladins hunt jumpers."

"Jumpers? Plural? There are more of you?"

"Yes," he answers impatiently, "but that's not important. I want to know why Paladins are following you if you're not a jumper."

"You want to know a lot of things that I don't know the answers to," I reply, taking a sip of my mocha, trying to keep a semblance of normality in my life. "How do you even know that these... Paladins are following me?"

"This morning, there were two sat in a car at the end of your road." His tone is nonchalant.

My cup pauses halfway between my lips and the saucer. My life has just lost all normality now that I know I'm definitely being followed. I take a deep breath and put my mug down as my hands begin to shake. "What do they want?"

Griffin shrugs, tearing another bite from his toastie. "Fuck if I know. You're not a jumper so they should have no reason to follow you. Unless they're following you because of me. But I walked right past their car in broad daylight; if it was me they were after they would have grabbed me there and then."

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I almost sigh with relief; anything to stop talking about this. I take out my phone and read the text from Mia: _Alexis! I'm running late again, I'm so sorry, but this time it's not my fault, the traffic is awful. I'll be there in ten._

I have to resist smacking my head against the table. Mia was my only hope, the only person who could take me away from this mess and make life seem normal and boring and plain again.

"Don't look but there's that guy across the street, looking at us," Griffin mumbles, eyeing his toastie, keeping his gaze away from the window.

Before I can stop myself I turn my head and look, regretting it instantly. Across the street, between the streams of people and cars, just like Griffin said, is Max, and I immediately lock eyes with him. Hurriedly, I turn away, back to my mocha and the swirls of chocolate brown on the top.

"I told you not to look!" Griffin snaps, but he looks across the street himself. His expression instantly drops, the scowl evaporating. "He's gone."

"What?" I snap my head back to the window, scanning the people for Max's face, the blonde hair, but he's not there. My stomach plummets through the floor like a falling cannonball.

"Shit, we're going," Griffin says, standing up so abruptly that he almost knocks the table over.

My mind flounders and I find myself blurting out, "But I haven't finished my coffee!"

Griffin looks at me like I'm stupid and retorts, "Who cares about your coffee? We're going before the shit hits the fan. Paladins are obviously after you for a reason and if they catch you, which they will, then you're screwed. Your only chance of getting out of here is by coming with me."

I stare at him, my brain taking a few seconds to comprehend what he just said. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because that's three times now that a Paladin has seen me with you and they _will_ work out who I am." For a second it seems as though Griffin is about to say something else, something more heartfelt, but he cuts himself off and continues, "And besides, I want to know why you can affect my jumps. So come on."

I hurry after Griffin as he strides away, scrabbling for my bag and my coat. But as I catch up with him just as he reaches the door, he suddenly grabs me and pushes me towards the back of the coffee shop, towards the toilets.

"What-" I start to protest, trying to twist round to see over Griffin's shoulder, but he's stronger than me and pushes me forwards.

"Paladins," he hisses into my ear, and I quickly stop my protests when I see two men in beige trench coats enter the coffee shop, briefcases in hand. I wouldn't think anything of them if I knew any better; just two businessmen stopping off for lunch. But now I notice the shady look in their eyes, the tensed muscles, and I know that these aren't your average businessmen. Especially when Max follows them through the door. Just as we disappear into the toilets – the men's toilets – I catch eyes with Max and I know that this isn't a game any more.

Griffin pushes me into the middle of the toilets, which are luckily empty, and spins me around to face him, bracing his hands on my shoulders. "Think of somewhere," he says to me, urgency in his tone.

"What?" I reply, still a little dumbfounded by the situation.

"Think of somewhere," he repeats more forcefully. "Somewhere safe, anywhere, I don't care. But I'm not about to jump us not knowing where we're going to end up. So think of somewhere."

"Okay," I say when I've thought of somewhere, the first place that popped into my mind.

"Okay? Ready?"

"Yeah."

And with that one word, the toilet door flies open, the Paladins rush in, Griffin wraps his arms around me, and we're gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

A cacophony of sound hits my ears. I feel Griffin's arms drop abruptly from me and I stumble backwards, only to knock into something else that flings me forwards. My breathing is ragged, my legs weak; I feel like I've just run a marathon. But my eyes quickly focus and colours swirl into view, fluorescent and bright. The lights push against my eyeballs like fingers. I blink it all away and finally see where we are.

"Times Square?" Griffin shouts, enraged.

I stare at him like I've just been slapped and stammer, "I thought... it's busy, that makes it safe-"

The night sky is pitch black against the pulsing screens. They illuminate Griffin, stood in the centre of a bustling crowd. "We're in New York!" he continues to shout at me, his hand gestures wild. "You've sent us to one of the busiest cities in the world."

"Yeah, exactly, busy. How are they meant to find us?"

Griffin laughs bitterly, like he honestly can't believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. "So they put more Paladins in New York to compensate! They spread them about the city; they keep an eye on... on everywhere. Don't you get it?"

I feel my face drop. I get it now. "But how was I meant to know?" I protest weakly.

Griffin just growls in annoyance and shakes his head. "Doesn't matter, just think of somewhere better this time." He steps forwards, hands outstretched to take my mine, when suddenly his feet go from under him. He hits the ground and writhes like a worm cut in two, shouting out in pain. That's when I see the metal wire coiled around his ankles. It shoots off into the crowd, dispersing the onlookers, clearing a straight path for the Paladin to stride towards us.

I kneel beside Griffin, reaching out to try and untangle the wire, when he snaps, "No! It's charged." I pull my hands away just in time, feeling the current buzzing in the air.

The Paladin strides forwards, practically grinning, when suddenly Griffin throws his legs to the side, yanking the wire with him so that it cuts the Paladin to the ground. The movement has loosened the wire a little and Griffin manages to struggle free. The Paladin lunges for me as he struggles to his feet and I kick at his hands, hearing an audible crack of crunching bones. Then Griffin is practically tackling me and I know what he's planning to do, which means I know what's expected of me. I think of a place and-

My mouth fills with salty water and I come up coughing. I'm collapsed in the shallows with the unmistakable hiss of a retreating wave. Before I can get up, another wave crashes over my head, drenching me in icy water. I struggle to my feet, gasping for air, trying to not retch as the salt burns my throat.

"Where the fuck are we?" Those five little words again. I look to my right and try not to laugh. Griffin is glaring at me, completely soaked from head to toe. His hair is matted against his face and wet sand is stuck to his jeans.

"You wanted somewhere safe, where the Paladins wouldn't think to look for us, so I thought of somewhere safe," I reply, a smart-arse answer. Griffin just continues to glare at me, not a happy bunny, so I tell him, "We're in Uig."

"Oo-ig?" Griffin pronounces like that's the name I've chosen for our future child. God forbid.

"It's on the Isle of Lewis, in the Outer Hebrides," I clarify.

Griffin takes a few seconds to think about this. "We're in Scotland?"

"No, we're in Africa, can't you feel how hot it is?" I reply sarcastically. "Yes, we're in Scotland."

Griffin sighs heavily, pulling at his wet t-shirt. "I can't complain, can I?"

"No, you can't. It's remote. The Paladins won't be here."

Griffin starts trudging up the beach, his feet sinking in the wet sand. "I'd say 'well done' but you still settled on New York first."

I roll my eyes and catch up with him. "There's a guest house just up the beach," I say, pointing at a quaint, white house perched on the edge of the land. The dark green grass rustles along the headland. "We used to stay here when me and Nathan were kids. The owner's a bit eccentric but it's a nice place."

"I think you're forgetting that we don't have any money," Griffin retorts, ever the pessimist.

A smirk tugs at the corners of my lips. "I know how to solve that."

When we trudge through the front door of the guest house, a plump man in his late fifties, glasses perched on the edge of his large nose, is obviously startled. He gapes at us and then exclaims in a very un-Scottish, posh English accent, "Oh, my dears! What on earth happened?"

I exaggerate my shivering, crumple my face a little so that it looks like I'm on the verge of tears. "Our boat, it crashed into the headland, we had to swim for it," I begin to explain, trying to look a little shocked. Griffin's scowl isn't too convincing but it would be plausible if I said he was angry about our sunk boat. "The incoming storm just got too much. Our boat was smashed to pieces." I shake my head as though I can't believe our tragedy, when in fact I'm just concealing a smug smile directed for Griffin.

"That's terrible!" the man gasps. I remember him as the owner of the guest house. He hasn't aged a day, but I've obviously changed a lot since I was five. Thankfully, he doesn't recognise me. "Oh dear, that's awful."

"Would it be alright if we got cleaned up here?" I ask as sweetly as possible. "Maybe use your phone to call home?"

"Of course, of course," he replies, ushering us further into the foyer. "By all means stay the night if you need to; we have one available room upstairs. You poor dears. I've been watching that storm roll in all day, horrible weather." He continues to chat away as he directs us upstairs, calling to his wife to bring us some towels. He shows us to a large room with an ornate fireplace... and a double bed. "I'm afraid it's the only room we have free right now, I hope that's not a problem," the man says.

I try and keep a grateful smile on my face as I say, "Oh, no, that's... that's fine, thank you very much." Griffin, however, isn't too good at hiding the disgust on his face.

When the man finally leaves I blurt out to Griffin, "You're sleeping on the floor."

He turns on me. "What? No!"

"I'm the girl," I hiss at him, "and I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you, so I get the bed. Look, there's an armchair in the corner, you can have that."

"Fine, whatever," Griffin huffs, stomping across the room, his footsteps pounding through the house. He collapses in the chair and closes his eyes like a sulking child.

While Griffin is pretending to be asleep, I go across the hall to the bathroom and run myself a hot bath, peeling my clothes from my skin. It feels odd being here without my family. Last time we were here I was five and Nathan was eight. I never knew why we stopped coming here. I love the quiet, the vast expanse of fields and sands. The perfect place to hide from Paladins.

When I return to the room Griffin is still curled in the chair, one eye open like a cat, which he quickly shuts when I enter. "The bathroom is free," I say, and he's out of that chair like a shot, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Griffin returns soon afterwards, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. Both of us are wearing fluffy bath robes, our clothes drying on the radiator. I have to stifle laughter; I never thought I'd see Griffin in a bath robe. He glances at me, still scowling.

"What are we gonna do about the Paladins?" I ask matter-of-factly.

"Kill them," he replies simply.

I bite back an annoyed sigh. "What about my family?"

"They're probably dead by now." Those words hit me like I've been punched in the throat, all the air knocked out of me.

"What do you mean 'dead'?" My voice shakes.

"I mean no pulse, no brain activity, no pumping blood. That's what 'dead' means."

Now it's my turn to glare at him. I can feel the beginnings of tears clogging my throat like cotton wool. "Well we have to go back for them."

"Yeah, if you want to join them in the afterlife too."

"Why are you so callous?" I snap at him.

He gets right in my face then, his breath salty from the sea. "Because that's the only way you survive." He strides across the room to the window and stares out at the roiling sea. There really is a storm outside.

"We're going back for them. Tomorrow," I say, my voice hard, determined. I'm not abandoning my family so easily. They're not dead. I won't accept it.

Griffin scoffs. "Whatever. It's your funeral."

I whip around to face him. "Aren't you forgetting that you're the one who jumps me home?"

"No, I haven't forgotten. I'll get you in. I can't guarantee I'll get you out."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"We can't just jump straight to your house, that's suicide. We need to jump to somewhere nearby," Griffin explains. He's shed the bath robe in favour of his usual clothes and now I really understand that our brief respite is over. My family is in trouble; _I'm_ in trouble, and the only person that can help us is a renegade teleporter with anger issues.

I take a moment to compose my thoughts and think. "What if I said I could get us right outside my house?"

Griffin narrows his eyes at me. He still hasn't learnt to completely trust me, nor I him. But at this moment in time each other is all we have. And I get a feeling Griffin had just learnt to be alone. "Depends," he replies. "Are you gonna get us blown to bits?"

I shake my head. "Across the street is Mrs. Livingston's house. She's a widow and can't bring herself to sell her husband's car, so it just sits on the street outside her house. We could jump behind there."

Griffin still looks at me with scepticism, but he steps closer. "If you get us killed I'm holding you responsible."

I frown. "What? That doesn't even make-"

Griffin clamps a hand on my shoulder before I can finish, and the next thing I know is he's pushing me into a crouch, the two of us concealed by Mr. Livingston's car. Griffin is back to his usual self, his movements erratic yet controlled, his gaze calculating. He signals for me to stay down while he slowly peers through the windows of the car, looking through to my house. I can feel my heart clenching fiercely with every harried beat.

"I don't see anyone," Griffin whispers, but I don't relax.

"Is that good or bad?"

Griffin shrugs. "Only one way to find out."

He grabs my shoulder again and jumps us straight to my bedroom. This time our arrival is silent.

"How did you know I'd think of my room?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"You're always thinking of your bedroom when you're around me," he replies with a wry smile. "I mean, you're only human after all."

I roll my eyes, hoping Griffin doesn't notice the blush that rises in my cheeks.

A thump from outside my room returns my attention to the task at hand. This isn't a time to be joking. We both stand still for a second, listening. I glance around my room, getting that feeling as if someone is watching me, a feeling like ants crawling up my neck. Something catches my eye and I notice a scrap of paper on my bed, neatly folded with my name written on it. Before I can even think about it, I reach down and my fingers have just enclosed around it when Griffin yells, "Don't!"

But it's too late. It's always too late, isn't it? I hear a distinct click, faint but audible, and in that second Griffin rushes towards me. He knocks me to the ground just as a tangle of silvery wires shoots overhead, smashing into the wall where I was stood just seconds ago. Griffin is pinning me to the ground with his hands when the door flies open behind us. But instead of an angry Mum is an angry Paladin, clutching some kind of slender, metal tube. He aims it at us just as Griffin jumps.

We hit the living room floor, Griffin hurriedly scrambling to his feet. He glares at me as if to say 'the living room? This is worse than Times Square!'. He doesn't have to say it though, because an answering stomp of heavy footsteps alerts us that the Paladins are closing in. I'm barely onto my feet when they rush in, a swarm of black flies.

Now without the burden of me, Griffin is free to go where he pleases, and for a second a rush of terror sweeps through me like a crashing wave. I frantically look for him just as he jumps and I feel my eyes threaten tears. He can't leave me. Not now; he can't leave.

Yet when a Paladin crashes to the floor and I catch a fleeting glimpse of a figure before they're gone, my heart soars, flooding my lungs with hope to the point at which they threaten to burst.

Tangled nets of silver wire begin to fly, shouts echo throughout the house, and I find myself ducking beneath the dining room table like a petrified child as a fight breaks out in my living room. It's five against one, Paladins against Griffin.

I can barely keep track of the fight; it's like Griffin is everywhere at once, jumping about the place. The Paladins fall like skittles but they just keep on getting back up again. It's like watching someone else play a video game. There's such a commotion and so many bodies in one small space that I don't notice until it's too late.

"Want to come out from under that table and tell your friend to hold still?" Max's face suddenly appears before me, bending over the edge of the table to look at me. Even from this twisted angle, I can see the sadistic smile on his face.

Startled, I jolt and whack my head on the underside of the table. "Ow," I grimace, rubbing at the place of impact, but even the pain can't draw my eyes away from Max. The short, blonde hair that looks soft to the touch, obviously dyed as hints of dark brown sprout at the roots. His complexion is smooth, pale and perfect, but his green eyes are serpentine and intimidating, his strong jaw powerful and determined.

Max continues, "Let me rephrase that: stop your vermin friend from jumping or we'll stop him ourselves."

I don't need to be told exactly how they'll stop him; Max's smile says it all. My mouth is dry as I open it to speak, but I can't bring myself to actually say anything. But, in the end, it doesn't matter. Griffin catches sight of me, cowering under the table and cornered by Max, as he jumps to avoid wires and smashes into the back of a Paladin. His actions falter, the fire flickers uncertainly in his eyes, but it's enough. A Paladin shoots the electrified wires at Griffin, the net wrapping around him, sending him crashing to the floor.

And I'm just sat here like a coward, mouth aghast, unable to do anything but watch. Griffin looks at me, his eyes a mixture of accusation and grit. A part of him wants to give up, but another part doesn't, and I think it's the latter that is the real Griffin. He's learned never to give up.

Max reaches under the table, grabbing me by the upper arm and dragging me out. I struggle against him but it's no use. I stand there next to him, my arm in his grip, feeling so ashamed of myself that I stare at my shoes, biting back tears as I'm unable to meet Griffin's eyes. In my peripheral vision, I can see him twitching on the floor. He spits at one of the Paladin's, a glob of dirty white landing on the man's trousers. He kicks Griffin and I wince.

"That's better," Max says, and I don't have to look at him to know that he's smiling.

"What have you done with my family?" I growl, my voice shaking with adrenaline and worry.

"They're safe," he replies simply.

"Safe where?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

"Why didn't you just kill them?" Griffin asks, his voice strained as the wires send shocks through his body. "I mean, that's what you usually do."

Griffin is mocking him, and Max just smiles venomously in answer. "You'll see them soon enough," Max says to me, and he nods at the other Paladins. A few begin to file out, but two stay behind, and it's only as Max is pushing me from the room that I see the glint of a knife in one of the Paladin's hands.

"Aren't you gonna wait for Roland? I thought he would want to do the honours," Griffin spits.

"Wait!" I shout out, twisting in Max's arms. "Don't kill him! Don't!" Max continues to drag me away so, in desperation, I yell, "I won't cooperate if you kill him!"

Max stops for a second, my words striking a chord. He sighs irritably and tells the other Paladins, "Bring him. He might be of some use when we break the news to the girl."

News? What news?

The Paladins haul Griffin to his feet, the net of wires not hindering his legs. They push him after us as Max forces me into the back of a waiting van.

"What news?" I ask Max as he turns to shut the van doors.

He smirks. "The news about what you are."

And with that, he slams the doors closed, leaving Griffin and I in the dark.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

I can't meet Griffin's eyes during the journey. I feel so responsible, so guilty. He's here because of me, tied up like an animal, strapped down like a criminal in the electric chair. The journey is achingly silent.

I hid under a table while Griffin fought for our lives, for _my_ life.

When the van finally stops for good, my heart starts pumping frantically again. The front doors slam and I hear footsteps making their way around the van. The doors are flung open and light spills inside, causing the two of us to squint and instinctively shy away from it. Max climbs inside the van, rocking it so that my stomach lurches, and produces a strip of cloth from behind his back. Before I can protest, he's roughly tying it around my head, obscuring my vision. He leads me out of the van and I hear Griffin follow after a brief, wordless scuffle.

Beneath my feet I feel the ground change from tarmac to hard, tiled floor. My shoes squeak as I stumble a little and Max's grip on my arm tightens. Even through the blindfold I can see lights, bright and white like heaven's calling.

Then Max is pulling me to a halt, his hand leaving my arm. Still I cannot relax. My ears are listening hard, so hard that I feel a headache coming on. I can hear Griffin breathing not far behind me, footsteps further away.

Someone unties my blindfold and I see it's Max as he strides past me. He stops and turns to face me a few metres away. It reminds me of terrorists and I'm the hostage.

"So," Max starts, absently scuffing the toe of his shoes on the polished floor. The room is large and white and empty. "Where to begin?"

"Where are my family?" I interject. I keep my voice hard and cold, but everyone must be able to see how my hands shake at my sides.

Max waves away my outburst. "Like I said, they're safe. Right now, what should be concerning you is why you're here."

I glare at him. I won't beg for answers.

He sighs and says, "Okay, well... what's he?" He points to Griffin, who scowls in return.

I frown and shrug. "A person?"

Max sighs irritably. "No, more specific than that."

"A Jumper."

"Right. Now, I don't know what your friend here has told you, but, what am I?" Max points to himself, and for a moment I'm tempted to reply with 'a twat' but I stop myself and say, "A Paladin."

A smile cracks on his face, but it's only an attempt at friendliness. "Good. So, you're probably wondering what this place is." He spins in a circle, hands spread out to gesture at the room around us. "Well this is the Paladin Facility. Does what it says on the tin."

I can feel impatience itching at my throat and I can't catch myself before I snap, "What has any of this got to do with me?"

Max, not liking my interjections, watches me with steely eyes. "I'm getting to that," he says. "Now, Alexis, if my information is correct, your parents had trouble conceiving. Am I right?"

I frown. What is he getting at? How does he know this stuff? "Yeah..."

"Your parents, I believe, managed to conceive your brother naturally. But you-" he points a finger at me, almost accusing in his gesture, "-you were trickier. Your parents needed help and so you were..."

He waits for me to finish the sentence. I've grown up with this story, it doesn't affect me any more. But somehow hearing it come from a stranger's mouth, a stranger who kidnapped me, makes my legs feel weak. "A test tube baby," I finish, my words barely a whisper.

Max smiles. "Correct. Now, here's the half of the story you probably don't know. Your parents didn't have the funds to pay for IVF. They needed money from somewhere else, but didn't want to take out any loans. Then they got an offer they couldn't refuse." Max, still grinning, gestures around him again, and the pieces begin to fall into place in my mind. "Some scientists were looking to study early embryos used for IVF. Only one embryo survived to be placed into her mother's womb and born, all without her parents not knowing exactly what went on. You."

"What the fuck are you on about?" Griffin's voice pipes up from behind me. I don't know if he's genuinely confused or trying to give me some respite from the verbal torture Max is putting me through.

Max turns his attention to Griffin. "Ever wondered how Alexis could change your jump? Paladins, is the answer. Paladins made it so. They tested on Alexis' embryo, added a modified gene, and as a result turned Alexis into the first human weapon against Jumpers. And now we want her back." Max nods to one of the other Paladins. "Put them in a cell."

I have my hands clamped over my ears. As if that will do any good. You can't un-hear things. Max's words have been burned onto my brain, the charred remains left behind to last me till the day I die.

This is so messed-up that I have to be dreaming this. I have to. This is just one long nightmare.

I know it isn't.

A Paladin grabs my shoulders and I desperately try and twist away from him, but it's no use. He wrestles me into his grip and pushes me from the room.

Griffin and I are sat in a cell. Light filters lazily through a triple-glazed window of bulletproof glass. I've tried hammering on it till a bruise started to flower on the side of my fist.

"That's not gonna work," Griffin says. His voice is monotone, flat. He's tired. His head lolls forward slightly. I wish they'd take him out of that electrified cable. It's barbaric.

I drop from the chair, feeling tears spring to my eyes. "I'm sorry Griffin," I begin, working myself up to a full apology.

"Oh don't cry on me," he snaps, but there's some sympathy in his voice.

"Sorry," I say, now apologising for crying. I wipe a stray tear from my cheek. "It's just been a really bad day. A really fucking awful day."

Griffin snorts in agreement. "You can say that again."

I collapse onto the bed. The springs are hard and groan loudly. "I'm a freak."

I can practically hear Griffin roll his eyes. "Don't give me that one. We're both freaks. I can jump, you can change jumps. You're just a jumper who... can't actually jump. You're a leech jumper."

I can't stop a bitter laugh that bubbles to my lips. "A lot of good that's done me so far. All I've managed to do is pick up a renegade jumper and land us right in the thick of it."

"Well, seeing as you've admitted to this all being your fault, you can get us out of here." Griffin twitches as a shock shoots through him. "Preferably right now."

How on earth am I supposed to do that? Right now, all I'm good for is lying on this bed, staring up at the white panel ceiling.

White panel ceiling.

Panel ceiling.

Panel.

Tentatively, I climb to my feet, standing on the bed. If I stretch, my fingertips scrape the ceiling. I begin to jump, building up momentum.

"What are you doing?" Griffin says, but I ignore him. "Oh great, you've fucking gone mad. We're really in the shit now."

On my fifth jump, I smash my hands into the ceiling. The panel above my head gives slightly. Another laugh escapes me. I jump a few more times then hit the panel again. It pushes inwards before dropping back into place. On the next jump, I put all my strength into the hit. The panel jolts upwards. I flick my wrists, curving the panel's fall so that when it lands there's a gap. I slide the panel to the side until there's just a square hole in the ceiling, just big enough for someone to fit through.

I look to Griffin, who's badly concealing how impressed he is. I flash him a grin and explain, "Back at high school, the hall had a panelled ceiling like this, only not as polished looking. We played volleyball once and Cosette whacked the ball so hard that it flew up and dislodged a panel in the ceiling. I thought that might work here."

I turn back to the hole and try jumping at it. I manage to hook my arms inside and, swinging my legs crazily, manage to lift myself up to get a look into the crawl space. It's a bit dark, but something reflects the light from below. I peer closer, trying to get a better look, and gasp.

"No way."

I scrabble an arm forwards and close my hand around cool metal. Unable to hold on any longer, I fall onto the bed, scraping my arms on the way down but I don't really care. Because it seems like luck has now changed sides.

"An electrician or something must have left them behind," I say, waving my discovery at Griffin.

Pliers.

I hurriedly cut through the wires wrapped around Griffin. Now our escape can begin.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Griffin soon discovers that jumping is entirely out of the question. "It's like the whole building is electrified," he says, his face a mixture of astonishment and awe. "They must have wired the entire place. There has to be currents running through the cavities between walls, floors, ceilings. They went to so much trouble to make this place jumper-proof." He laughs in astonishment, his brow furrowed.

Crawl space it is then.

Griffin climbs up first and I follow, wincing at the scrapes on my forearms from where I fell. I feel a bout of claustrophobia threatening as I slide the panel into place behind me. The crawl space shrinks into the gloom; pockets of light from vents are the only things illuminating our path.

"How do we know where this goes?" I ask. My voice reverberates off the metal, echoing down the shaft.

"We don't," Griffin replies, his tone implying that I'm an idiot. "But it has to reach an exit at some point; the vent will lead outside."

"So we're just gonna crawl about in the vent system hoping that we stumble upon the exit," I retort. It's not a question.

"Do you have a better idea?" Griffin snaps, finding just enough space to turn his head and glare at me. I ignore him and we continue crawling.

I can feel the heat like a suffocating blanket, wrapping around my limbs, slipping down my throat and clenching my lungs. I could never live in a hot country. I'm finding it hard to breathe.

"You know, you never said 'thank you' for cutting you loose." I can't resist saying it. I'm grateful to him for helping me; honestly, I am. But when I help him out he says nothing. We've been in this together for what seems like months, when in reality our lives have been entwined for a few wild days.

"Thanks?"

I sigh heavily. "Okay, I'll go first; being courteous obviously doesn't come naturally to you. So, thanks for helping me in this mess."

There's a pause before he mumbles. "You're welcome."

Silence. I wait.

"Yes, okay, thanks for cutting the wires off me. Happy now?"

"Yes."

"Good."

We crawl on for ten minutes in silence, Griffin stopping suddenly every now and then as the sounds of people grow closer then further away. They walk below us and above us, completely unaware of our presence. It's an exhilarating feeling, though I know that if we're found then that feeling will become terror.

At a junction, we stop for a rest. We lean our backs against the sides, our knees tucked close to our chests, heads dipped.

"So where are you from?"

"What?"

"Where are you from?" Griffin looks taken aback by my sudden question, but the claustrophobia is kicking in and I need to talk about something to take my mind off it. "You have to be from somewhere, you can't have just jumped into existence."

Griffin mock laughs at me, but his laugh quickly fades away and his face becomes hard set. His hair is even more dishevelled than usual. "Oxford," he finally answers.

"Really?"

He nods. "I first jumped from the steps of the Martyr's Memorial in front of a bus-load of tourists."

"What happened?"

He shrugs, trying to be nonchalant, but the frown line on his forehead gives him away, and there's a sombre tone to his voice. "We moved to San Diego. Everything went tits-up there too. I've travelled ever since."

"What about your family? What happened to them? Your parents?" I can't stop myself from asking questions. This is the first time Griffin has opened up to me.

Yet before he can answer, if he was ever going to answer at all, a shrill alarm sounds, each shriek rising an octave. I slap my hands over my ears but it makes no difference. Amidst the alarm I can hear shouting, thundering footsteps. They know we're not in the cell.

Griffin hurriedly resumes crawling and I follow him. People storm about below and above us, and my heart hammers like bombs dropping in my chest.

A gun shot sounds and I'm startled, then I'm falling, falling falling. Bright lights, white. My shoulder cracks against the corridor floor. Shocked, I look up to see Griffin's surprised face glaring at me from a hole in the ceiling. Beside me lies a vent grate. I must have leant on it; it must have been loose. Stupid mistake.

There's no way I can get back into the vent and Griffin knows it too. I shuffle out of the way as he drops to the floor, his feet hitting the tiles with a bang. As if on cue, the sound of a horde of approaching footsteps echoes off the walls. Griffin reaches out a hand and pulls me to my feet. We start running, my shoulder throbbing with pain, when the stomp of footfalls suddenly increases. A group of Paladins hurtles round the corner towards us and we skid to a stop, shoes squeaking on the floor. Griffin drags me back the way we came and I stumble, yet manage to regain my balance. There's a familiar crackling sound behind us and we both instinctively duck just as a net of electrified wires whips over our heads, smashing into the wall. Dust and debris collide with my side but I ignore it and keep running.

We tear round corners but all the corridors look the same. I could swear we're going in circles. Griffin decides to try a few doors, and the fifth door handle he rattles swings inwards.

What I see makes me grind to a halt. Mum, Nathan and Mia, their hands tied behind their backs like the hostages they are.

"Alexis!" Mia shouts out in relief. Griffin slams the door shut behind us and drags a desk to barricade it. We're in some kind of small lab.

I rush over to them where they sit huddled in the centre of the room. I can't describe how happy I feel to see them alive, how relieved. It's like a wave washing over me. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

"We're fine," Mum says, shaking her head.

Before anyone else can speak, Nathan interrupts. "Alexis, what the hell is going on? What have you got yourself into this time?"

"I can explain, but right now, we need to get out of here," I answer.

I start trying to untie their bonds, but it's no use without a knife. We're never going to escape in time.

"Oh shit."

I turn to see Griffin backing away from the little window in the door. "What?" I ask him. "What is it?"

"They've got a bomb. They're gonna blow the door off."

"Crap." I help Mum, Nathan and Mia to their feet, dragging them towards the back of the room. Suddenly the room goes dark and I smack into a desk, test tubes rattling.

"Griffin, what are you doing?" I shout at him.

"Find cover and hide," he says. "They've got an element of surprise, but so have we." In the sparse light he rushes over to me, and in his hands he hefts a large, box-like machine.

He dumps it behind a cabinet where we duck for cover, out of sight of the door. Immediately he rips open a flap on the machine's side and starts fiddling with the wires.

"What is that?"

"Just trust me," he answers.

And with that the door caves in.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

To my ears it sounds like I have five hearts, all pumping violently in unison. The bomb explodes with a muffled concussion and crack. From where we're hiding, I can't see the door, and instead a sudden plume of grey dust shoots into view.

Frantically, I look to Griffin, hoping for some kind of reassurance. Yet he's still fiddling with the wires in the metal box, seemingly unaware of the explosion. I bite back a scream of fear and irritation, knocking the back of my head against the wall.

Since when did my life come to this?

"Oh, so we're hiding now, are we?" My ears are still ringing from the explosion, but Max's voice cuts through the noise.

I turn to my family. Mum, looking back at me with raised eyebrows. Nathan, his leg twitching uncontrollably, his eyes glazed as his ears take the part of the main sense. And Mia, covering her mouth with her hand. Oh God, I can't believe I've dragged them into this. If anything happens to them, it's all my fault.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Is this some kind of sick game to him? I can hear his feet crunching on the debris, steady and sure.

I look to Griffin again. This time, he returns my gaze. Suddenly, he takes my hand in his and stares urgently at me. He nods at Mum, Nathan and Mia and then shakes our linked hands. He wants us all to hold hands. We take each other's hands in turn, limbs shaking in each other's grip.

"Where could you be?" Max's voice drips with sarcasm. His footsteps are closer and I feel my whole body tense.

Griffin slaps a button on the top of the box and it hums to life. He grabs the curl of wires in his other hand. Max's footsteps falter. Then suddenly they're struggling towards us. In one quick motion he rounds the corner of the cabinet. His face is set. He's no longer joking. In his right hand he aims a pistol. Aims it right at Griffin.

It's like my whole world freezes. It slows to the point in which I have time to make out the sweat on Max's brow, the tensing of his hand, the heave of his chest. Yet somehow it doesn't give me enough time to comprehend the sudden blur that crosses my eyes. Like a cloud blocking out the sun. Then the shot rings out.

"Mum? Mum!"

She collapses to the ground, fingers clutching a crimson hole in her stomach.

Max is aiming the gun again.

"Grab his hand!" That's Griffin, shouting at me.

I see Nathan moving in the corner of my vision and without really thinking I do what Griffin says and reach out to grab his hand.

All of a sudden we're gone and somewhere else. I hit hard, rough, packed earth.

"What did you do?" Nathan's face is in mine, his eyes brimming with tears. I've never seen him like this before.

Where's Mum?

"Griffin, what happened?" I turn desperately to him. He's extracting himself from the tangle of wires and the metal box. He glances at me momentarily and licks his lips nervously. He looks at Nathan before getting to his feet.

Nathan is distraught. Mia is close to tears. "Mum was shot!" Nathan shouts at me, carefully annunciating each word.

The blur, the cloud that blocked the sun. Mum took that bullet. She took the bullet that was meant for Griffin.

Oh God, what have I done?

I feel numb. No matter how hard I try to cry nothing comes. My mouth is dry, my tongue thick and heavy.

"Don't you care?" Nathan continues to scream at me. "This is all your fault!"

"Hey, that's not fair," Griffin interrupts.

Nathan storms towards him, gets right in his face. "She took a bullet for you."

"Yeah, and without her none of us would be alive right now," Griffin retorts. "I'd be dead and you'd have no way of escaping. They'd kill you, kill your friend too-" he nods at Mia, still clutching her mouth to muffle the sobs, "-and leave Alexis to be tested on and used. Besides, your mum may not even be dead. She wasn't when we left. They might patch her up and keep her as bait."

That last statement seems to quieten Nathan and he turns away from Griffin. Griffin meets my searching eyes, offers a tentative smile, then walks away.

"Where are we?" I call after him. My voice is scratchy, thick with brimming tears. Mum might be alive. There's a chance she's alive. I have to hold onto that or it'll consume me.

We're in some kind of twisting cave, filled to the brim with desks, chairs, paper. "The lair," Griffin replies, as if that will mean anything to us.

"What?" Nathan snaps at him.

"Where I live."

"You live here?" Mia asks in disbelief.

"Yes," Griffin answers impatiently.

"But how did we get here? You can't have jumped me here because I never thought of this place. I was thinking of home," I say in disbelief.

"That machine," Griffin says, pointing at the metal box beside me. "Paladins use it to follow jumpers through their jump scar."

"Jump scar?" Nathan asks, confused.

"It's like residue from a jump, a teleport. A rip in the space-time-whatever-continuum. Anyway, Paladins use it to help them follow the jumper to wherever they jumped to. It effectively allows non-jumpers to jump. But I modified it. I couldn't jump from that place because of all the electricity in the building; electricity stops jumpers from jumping. But when I changed the machine I allowed it to help me jump, in a way. The power of the machine overrode Alexis' ability."

"What?" Nathan clutches his head in confusion.

Griffin sighs impatiently. "Look, all you need to know is that I can jump, I'm a jumper, which means I can teleport. Your sister, when she was a test-tube baby, was tested on by those people back there that kidnapped you and tried to kill us. They turned her into a weapon against jumpers so that if she's touching a jumper when he or she jumps then she controls where that jump goes. Okay?"

Nathan opens his mouth to reply, but just shakes his head. "This is mental."

As I shakily climb to my feet, Mia rushes over and wraps me into a hug. "Oh Alexis." She pulls away and looks me in the eyes. "Your Mum is fine, don't worry."

I smile weakly at her.

"So what do we do now?" I ask Griffin. "We have to go back and get Mum."

Griffin snorts. "If you want to go back to that death trap then be my guest, but I don't think you'll get out alive."

"So we just drop it?" I clarify in disbelief.

"For now." Griffin shrugs. "Look, you're safe, that's all that matters right now. Don't worry, the shit will hit the fan soon enough, but until then you have to wait. You can't just go charging in all guns blazing."

"Yes, because you certainly strike me as someone who plans everything," I snap at him sarcastically.

He glares at me, biting back his anger. "Have a rest, get cleaned up, then we can sort something out. Alright?"

I grind my teeth together. I hate the thought of sitting here, doing nothing, while Mum's fate hangs in the balance. But Griffin's right – we need to take some time out and work out what we're going to do next. "Fine."

Later on, after we've all had a wash in the excuse for a shower that Griffin has installed, he jumps away to get us all some clothes and other necessities. Mia specifically instructed him to only go to Topshop and H&M for clothes, to which Griffin just rolled his eyes.

Nathan is playing on Griffin's X-Box, losing his inhibitions in a swarm of pixels, just like he's always done. Mia is sleeping on one of Griffin's computer chairs. I wander the lair, studying all the drawings he has on his walls. He's amazing at drawing. He captures portraits in great detail. Over the drawings are scribbled numbers and words that mean nothing to me, and I think about how much I don't know about Griffin. What do I know? His name, if that even is his name. In the vent system in the Paladin Facility, he told me how he used to live in Oxford till he first jumped. Then he moved to San Diego. He never got any further than that. I feel a pang of sympathy for him. For all I know, Griffin might have gone through a lot worse in his childhood than I've been through in these last few days. I make a mental note to ask him about it later.

In that second, Griffin jumps back and dumps two heavy duffel bags on the ground. He zips them open. In one is a heap of clothes, in the other an array of packaged food.

"Dig in," he says with a shrug, grabbing a Crunchie chocolate bar for himself. He rips it open and takes a bite.

"What are these?" I ask him, pointing to the drawings on the closest wall and desk.

"Doesn't matter, just leave it," he snaps, stomping over and sorting through the clutter, blocking my view. He stops suddenly, clutching a piece of paper, but I can't see what's on it. "Where's your dad?" he asks, his voice quieter.

"Who knows," Nathan replies, not taking his eyes of his video game. "He left us when we were kids." His tone of voice is bitter; Dad's leaving always hit him harder than it did me.

"So you've no idea where he is, what he does?" Griffin asks.

"No," I answer.

Griffin gives a little laugh and shakes his head.

"What?"

"Nothing, I-" he begins, then continues more forcefully. "Don't you just think it's a bit odd that your parents agreed to have IVF done by a bunch of scientists who paid _them_. Think about it, would you do that? No, it's stupid; it's obvious that the scientists want to do something more than just study the embryos. If they wanted to do that they could just take the frozen, unused embryos from the IVF clinics or whatever. So why did they want embryos that were gonna actually be allowed to grow? Because they were gonna do something to the embryos. Don't you just think it's a bit strange how your parents went along with it, even if they were desperate for a child?"

"So... what are you implying?" I'm still trying to process Griffin's words.

He frowns at me. "What I'm saying is that maybe your Dad had something to do with it. You'd need some pretty good convincing to agree to having your future child tested on. Maybe your Dad was in on it and convinced your Mum. Then he left because... I don't know, he couldn't carry the burden of what he did."

"Are you saying my Dad's a Paladin?"

Griffin shrugs. A half-smile has grown to life on his face. "We'll just have to find out."


End file.
